As if I had any doubt in my mind that my family WASN'T completely insane, they did their best to reassure me this morning that I could be wrong. I discovered what happens when the man of the house tries to wear the pants, he finds him self wearing his wife jeans, literally. Granted, Dan was looking pretty damn good wearing his wife's jeans, better than her in fact. The sad part of the matter is that with all this flaming homosexuality and metro sexuality floating around in the world today I didn't realize he was wearing woman's jeans. Had this happened ten years ago those jeans would have popped out at me in a second. But this morning all I could do was look at him and think, "did he get a hair cut? What's new? What ever it is it's working for him." I'm thinking next time my sister is shacked up with homework and him and I are feeling a bit randy he might have to put on her jeans, dust off the old coon hat, and we'll paint the town. Now the coon hat was lady killer enough for him, but imagine if he was wearing my sister's jeans... it would be free drinks for us all night long.
And I know, it's breakfast, not breftast (unless you're my sister). Sad thing is, before she took those speech classes in elementary she could say the damn word just fine. Want to know the funniest part about it? She gave up stripping to go work at a local breakfast only joint down here where she can mispronounce the word all day long.
I really do love my family, with out them the only thing I would have to blog about would be swollen fallopian tubes and politics, and I just found out about Saddam's execution so where does that leave me?